Bitter
by HP-KD
Summary: Strong profanity: When Sirius died, the last of Harry's tolerance and resolve broke. Harry pushes everyone who tries to pick up the pieces away. Nobody seems to be able to help him, and Harry finds he must learn to help himself before anyone else can.
1. Helpless

                                                                           Bitter

He had barely moved from his position on his bed in… what was it now? Hours? Days? He really didn't care anymore. What did it matter? The world would keep on turning even if he wasn't out trying to save the world from Voldemort. Everyone would get on like they normally did, trying to live their lives routinely with the fear of war hanging over their heads. But what did it matter to him right now? For him the war was over before it was started. He was to defeat Voldemort? Hell, they had already lost then. Any motive for winning the war that was inside of him had died, just like his godfather. Sirius was dead. Why bother fighting? For all the people who had believed that he was an insane psychotic teenager who needed to be locked up in St. Mugo's mental ward with Neville's parents? Or for Fudge and his team of assholes who were probably deatheaters? The same Ministry who had once condemned his godfather to twelve years of hell? Or maybe for Dumbledore, who had done the same thing to him, just less of a hell then Sirius had to go through. 

Why should he fight? Why should he go out and kill off Voldemort for ungrateful bastards who hadn't even believed that the man who had killed his parents was even alive? Well, was he alive? He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to die. Nothing Dumbledore said would change that. Nothing Harry did would change that. Let him do what he wants to do. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything sucked, and nothing that happened could really change that. He would never get his godfather back. Nothing could bring back the dead. Nothing…

"Boy! Get your lazy ass off that bed and do something!" His Uncle yelled. He didn't bother to elaborate. He did it every morning when he was going down the stairs for breakfast before work. Every morning he would find Harry sitting in the middle of his bed, and he would bark at him to do something. Harry would look at him blankly, or he would glare back at him. Today he was feeling particularly creative and gave him the finger. His Uncle would then turn purple and look menacing until Harry stood up and walked out of the room indifferently to go eat breakfast. He knew his Uncle wouldn't do anything to him. What _could_ he do? Punish him? Hit him? He wasn't afraid to get hit. In a sadistic sort of way, he kind of wanted his Uncle to attack him. That way he had a plausible excuse for beating the crap out of someone. He dared someone to cross that line, almost wanting it. He knew he couldn't just beat someone mercilessly unless he was provoked, but sometimes he wondered what was stopping him from doing it. He wasn't afraid of the consequences, but somewhere deep down, he had the smallest bit of self-resistance left in him, ready to snap at any moment.

He stalked down the stairs, ready to verbally assault anyone who wanted to get in his way. He needed that outlet. It was literally the only reason he was still sane… he could snap at his cousin, or glare meaningfully at his Aunt. He really didn't care if they got 'sick of his nonsense'. They could throw him out for all he cared. In fact, he wished they would. If he got thrown out, then someone would come collect him, and let him live somewhere else where he would have someone who was being annoyingly nice to him to bitch at. 

Despite the Orders wishes, Harry would only send a letter once a week. At first, he had resentfully sent letters every three days, but once he didn't send a letter for four days, and no one seemed to notice. The next letter was sent after five days, and again, Harry wasn't berated for it. He settled on sending a letter every seven days, and no body said anything about it. 

At first, the letters consisted of three pages of 'How are you doing Harry?' 'Are you holding up all right?' 'How are the Muggles treating you?' 'Don't worry about what's happening here, we're just extremely busy.' Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, or Mrs. Weasley usually wrote him the letters, but he liked it best when it was someone he didn't know very well, or not at all. That way it was impersonal, and difficult questions of how he was doing were avoided. 

At first, he made an attempt to sound almost cheerful. He would write a page long letter that usually took him a day to write, as it was difficult to make up half-truths that didn't sound like he was completely lying. After two page long letters, he cut it down to just the basics, 'I'm fine. Dursleys are treating me okay' and other stuff like that. This weeks letter consisted of 'I'm still alive. Doing okay. Talk to you later.'

But the Order never read the real letters he was writing. Just to be spiteful, he would write four page letters about how he was really doing. 'When I do sleep, it's very rare. Sleep without dreams that send me back to consciousness screaming almost never happens. I look like someone gave me two black eyes from sleep deprivation and any weight that I've gained over the years at Hogwarts has all but disappeared. I have to force myself to eat, though I don't know why I bother. I wish Remus hadn't stopped me from rushing through the veil after Sirius. I think that it would have been a better alternative to the hell my summer is right now.' Harry reread the letters with a smirk on his face. He found the whole thing cruelly funny. Sometimes when he had his wits about him, he would find things he had written kind of sick, but those where few times.

He had to stop himself from 'accidentally' sending one of those letters, just to see what the order would do. He expected a letter back three days later saying, 'Glad your summer isn't too bad, keep up your good spirits.' He really wondered if people read his letters. It wasn't that he wanted attention. He knew at some point they would come for him. But bitterness was aimed at anybody these days. Anybody cheerful… in good spirits? He glared at them viciously. They had no right being happy while Sirius was dead. When he was dead… on the inside.

He ate his meal in silence. What was there to say that didn't invoke yelling, and cursing? What was the point in getting his Uncle all riled up over stupid crap. "Boy, you're going outside today. I don't want to hear any protests. Go to the park, or go run around the track for a bit. God knows you need the exercise. You look like a toothpick, and I don't need those annoying little prats like you breaking down our doors because you blend in with our walls." 

"Oh shut the hell up Dursley. If anyone needs exercise around here, it's you, fatso. You and your wall of a son here, though I figure if he started running around the track, he might cause a friggin earthquake. And your wife over here who looks anorexic because you two fat asses eat everything in the house. You can't talk about looking like shit." 

"Boy. I have one word to say to you. Run!" Harry stayed seated as his Uncle rose from his seat looking menacing. Harry didn't flinch. 

"Go ahead oh high and mighty uncle. Hit me. Go ahead." He taunted. A beefy arm swung towards him, but he merely stood up, dodging the fist. Uncle Vernon lunged toward hi, but he merely dodged his arm again. When the next one came, Harry met it with his hand, then twisted it so that it was twisted to the point where tendons where being stretched to the point where pain was exceptional. 

With a cry of pain, he saw the frantic fist fly towards him as his Uncles arm was pulled forcefully from his hand. His uncle's fist met its target: his nose, though he made no sound of protest as blood poured from it. 

There was crack like sound coming from behind him, and, as he assumed, an order member had apparated to the house. "Dursley! We warned you!" 

Authors notes: All right. That was a bit short, I know. Now, I'm not sure if anyone has taken this angle before. I have read quite a few 6th years fics, and they're all pretty much 'Harry turning into an emotional sap, and finding comfort from his friends/Remus Lupin'. This is just my opinion of how I probably would have reacted had I been Harry, and had just lost the only decent parental figure I'd ever known. Probably a bit off the mark, I'm sure. *shrug* Who knows. Harry was pretty bitter throughout his fifth year. Well, flame if you wanna. If you like it, please let me know. I'll start writing the next chapter if I get more positive reviews then negative… if I get them at all. 


	2. Just don't care

                                                                           Bitter

If Harry had any sense, he would have played naïve, and nursed his injuries like any normal 16-year-old would, acting like he was just minding his own business while his Uncle just decided to go on a rampage. Had he been sane, he would have leapt into the arms of his rescuer, acting like a wounded child, who was afraid of the mad man in the room. However, Harry wasn't much for doing the sensible these days. He ran to the black microwave and stared intently at the damage done to his nose. 

"I think you broke it Dursley! Shit! Now it's going to be crooked! You're the one who needs to go to the track, because you're going to need to run fast!" He spun around, blood still flowing freely down to his shirt, and his eyes steely. He launched himself at his uncle, his hands clenched, as if he was going to strangle. 

He felt hands on his shoulder blades. He yanked them away, and spun around, leaving his uncle to back away from him toward the door. "Harry! Calm down boy. We can fix it!"  

"Oh no you can't! Don't you think Snape's nose wouldn't be so warped if magic could fix facial features? Or maybe it just exceeds magic's abilities." Harry said spinning around to the door where his uncle had scurried off to avoid his pist off self, and the wizard in the room. Who was it anyway? He turned around and faced Remus Lupin. Wow. Who expected him to come? That tiny little thread of sensibility that was left in him squeaked in a barely audible voice (well, it was a voice in his head, it wasn't audible at all) 'don't be an asshole! He's a nice guy, and he just lost his best friend. Don't snap at him.' He would have just ignored that voice, but it made sense, so he took it into consideration.

He just narrowed his eyes. 'I'm morning my godfather. Nobody else has given me that respect. I was left alone in my relatives house for nearly a month. Nobody came to check up on me, nobody was nice to me.' His 'resentful to the world' side kicked back in, scoffing at how thoughtful and forgiving he was being. He let out a short breath through his nose. "It's okay. I can handle myself. You can go back to the headquarters and ignore me again." He said all of this with a glare, and sarcasm so thick, you needed a steak knife to cut it. 

Lupin looked like shit. Not that he could talk. He guessed that he looked the same way. With the tangled matted hair that he just could bother to run a comb through. The dark circles under his eyes, and the pale skin. In other words, he looked like he had last summer. He just didn't care enough about his own appearance at this point to fuss over just about anything. It was just lucky for the Dursley that he had enough decency to take a shower every night, though it was just enough to run a bar of soup over his waxy skin and shrug at his rapidly deteriorating completion. 

He didn't give anyone in the room the idea that he wanted them to pity him, and made sure they knew he wasn't lying by turning and walking out of the room. He didn't pause at the door to see if he would be stopped, because he had no intention of having someone stop him. He had no intent for Lupin to tell him that it was time for the order to rescue him and whisk him off to Sirius's old house. Nor did he plan on setting foot in that house again. He didn't know which was worse, the Dursley or Grimmauld Place. Never mind. Grimmauld place was worse. 

He walked through the door, and listened to his Uncle move into the living room, and out of his reach, not that he really care about his Uncle any more. 

He went to his room, locked the door, flopped onto the bed, and pulled his headphones over his ear, drowning out the sounds of whoever wanted to talk to him. In other words, Lupin.

He had found the CD Player in the junk littering the shelves of his room. It wasn't broken; just skipped a lot. That was enough for it to get tossed in his room over the summer. On one of the few trips he had made outside, he had gone to a local muggle shop that sold CDs and bought a few with money he had stole from his Uncle's wallet. 

He mouthed along to the angry rap music, drawn to the comfort that he wasn't the only one out there that was angry at the world. The door opened magically. Oh, what a surprise. He closed his eyes, pretending to be listening intently to the music. 

He felt the headphones being removed from his ears, and prayed that this person had good running skills, or knew when to take a hint. "What?" he hissed viciously.

Lupin looked taken aback. "Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Look. I was getting on his nerves. So he hit me. It isn't a big deal." He wiped some blood off his lip. He jumped off his bed to examine the damage again. Yup. Definitely broken. He didn't dare touch it, as it stung to the touch, but he had to stem the flow somehow. It had already dripped onto his shirt. 

"That isn't it. I think it's time for me to-"

"No, let me guess. You've come to take me back to Sirius's old house so that I can spend the rest of my holiday around people that _care_ about me in my time of crisis." He snorted, and almost choked on blood. "Well too bad. I'm not going." He said collapsing back on his abused bed, and it gave a squeak of strain. 

"Actually, Harry, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the rest of your holiday at my house. You don't have to. If you don't, we can arrange for you to go to the Burrow. I just thought that it might be nice for us to get to know each other, since I've been absent from your life for so long, you know?"

Harry sat straight up. He snapped his head so that he was facing Lupin in the eye. "You. Have. A. Lot. Of. Nerve. To try to work your way into my life after thirteen years of me living with the ass holes I lived with downstairs, and then my godfather dies, and you decide that now is the perfect time to pick up what you should have been doing for the past fourteen years. Your chance to get to know me was when my parents died and I had no one to go to except people that didn't want me."

He watched as his father's friend's face went from stunned, to insulted, to hurt, but he wasn't finished yet. "Where were you then? I don't need you to help me now. I don't know you, and I don't want to." He braced himself for the hit that he knew he would receive. It didn't come. 

"Harry, I'm sorry…"

"I don't want to hear some half-ass apology. If you want to make it up to me, leave me alone. In fact, tell the whole fucking magical world to leave me the hell alone. I'm sick of this shit."

"Will you listen to me? I'm not going to apologize to you. I didn't take you in, because in case you haven't noticed, I can barely afford to take care of myself. And do you think the ministry would have let me take you in even if I could have?"

"What the hell do you think my parents left fifty thousand fucking galleons for? Drug money? The ministry doesn't give a damn that I spent ten years in a cupboard. Dumbledore didn't have a problem with it. Now get out of my room. Don't bother sending Dumbledore to have a little heart to heart with me either. I'm not going back to Hogwarts, and if you have a problem with that then you can kiss my ass."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way Harry, because I wanted you to come voluntarily, but I can drag you kicking and screaming as well. This way, you won't be left alone for more then five minutes at a time. Your doors and windows will be locked at all times, and depending on your behavior, you might have to see a therapist as well. How do you feel about all of that, Harry?"

"Yeah? Well you'll have to catch me first." Shock reigned on Lupin's face as he pulled his legs over his open window and dropped the short distance into a bush, and then made his way down the sidewalk, not knowing where the hell he was to go next.

Notes: Well… how about that chapter, eh? Kind of going back to cliché, but I'm going to try to make it more unique that usual. If you have any suggestions of what I should do for this story, go ahead and suggest them. Otherwise, I'll do what I have planned. Thank you for reviewing.

Pennicat: Thanks a lot. You really think this is any good? Wow.

Black Snow: Thanks for your reviews. It was funny. I realized that that annoying anonymous review thing was up, and it wouldn't turn off. Thanks for the advice.

Lemon The Kitty: That's the reason I wrote this fic. I was sick and tired of Harry turning into some kind of sappy emo kid, though if it's written correctly, it can be an excellent story. Thanks for the support.

Dani: Did you like it? Thanks.

Rubberduckie713: Thanks for the support. Judging from the way Harry had been acting throughout his fifth year, I think it's safe to say that Harry is going to be snappish rather then real emotional. I prefer 'Mad at the world' Harry to 'fragile and sensitive' Harry. Thanks.

Mo: Thanks. I find Harry more real in this fic then in some other fics. 


	3. don't bother

                                                                           Bitter

He didn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him run, like he was fleeing down the street from a something that would hurt him. If Lupin wanted to discomfit himself and run after him looking like an idiot, he had no problem with hiding out somewhere until he gave up looking for him. He wasn't going to go with him. Not so that he could be locked up in a room for all hours of the day, and never be aloud to be near knives or razors in fear he would kill himself. Honestly! Did they think he was a suicidal nut job? 

He could at least pride himself that he would never shame himself by doing something stupid like killing himself, even if the assholes drove him to it. Actually, the way things were going, he was more likely to turn dark himself rather then turn these aggressions onto himself. He shook his head. No, he wouldn't go that way. Everybody in his life had screwed him over in numerous ways, but none more then those of the dark side.  He wasn't going to be an idiot and join those who had screwed him over so much.

Harry made his way to the park, swiftly walking towards the old shack that was seriously dilapidated and sat in the woods about five minutes away from the park. He scrambled through the brush, feeling sick to his stomach that he was being so undignified. He walked a little while longer and found it, in all its horrendous glory.

All the windows were boarded up and the place was made purely of wood. Of course, if any adults had known about it, it would have been torn down ages ago. However, every kid in a mile radius knew about it, found it an ideal place to snog in. That or smoke pot.

He crawled in through a loose board that every kid knew about. In the narrow beam of light that barely illuminated the place, he saw two kids on the ground kissing. "GET THE HELL OUT!" He yelled. He two… _guys_ looked up at him.

"What? We weren't doing anything wrong." One of them said.

"I said, get the fuck out!" He voice was soft, but almost scary in its pitch. Both the boy's eyes widened and they exited the rinky-dink little shack quickly, looking fearful.

Harry picked up a lighter that littered the ground and only had to check in the corner of a windowsill to find a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and pocketed the pack next to his wand. So far, he had had to sneak into Dudley's room to find cigarettes, and it was difficult to steal them at the drugstore because they had them behind the counter. Then again, and he smiled as he thought this, he always liked a challenge. Or he had as of recent. 

He heard a noise. Wood scraping against wood, and he took a long puff of smoke. "If you value your life stay the hell out there." He yelled, unfazed. 

"I guess it's a good thing I don't then, huh?" he heard Lupin respond, just as unconcerned. 

"What the hell do you want from me? I ain't going with you. Take a hint and back the hell off." Harry told him, taking another puff. 

"What do I want? A little respect from you. I'm going out my way for you here. What were you planning on doing if I hadn't come to get you? Liven in my old shack? Yeah Harry, I knew where this is. I use to transform out here." He said as Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "You think I don't care about you? That I just abandoned you here? No. Actually I spent eleven years of my life looking out for you. You never knew about it, but I was. I lived near the park and I use to watch you from my house. After you went to Hogwarts I moved out but I kept track of your grades and how you were doing in school. I took the job at Hogwarts because I wanted to see you again. So I don't want to hear some crap about me not caring about you."

Harry refused to look surprised and regretful… even if he was. "How the hell do I know you aren't lying? I've been lied to my whole fucking life!"

"Why would I lie about something like that? When have I ever lied to you? You can't judge people by the way everyone else has treated you." Remus told him.

"You never told me you were a werewolf, Lupin. I consider that a lie." Harry spat at him.

"It isn't something you go around telling people. You don't tell people you're a parsletounge."

"That isn't life altering shit! So I can speak to snakes. You never even told me that you, my father, and my godfather were best friends! Did you think I would find that uninteresting goddamn it? You knew my whole fucking history and you didn't tell me shit!" Harry didn't raise his voice over a dull roar, but he still made his point. 

"You know what? I'm not arguing with you right now. You're just a bitter 16-year-old kid who has to learn when to shut his mouth." Lupin told him.

"Well fuck you! You aren't my father, you're not my godfather, and you aren't even related to me. You have no fucking say in what I do. Neither does Dumbledore. And I'll be damned if you try to treat me like you do."

"Well maybe somebody should! You need some help Harry. I don't care if you want it or not, but you're coming with me." 

"Oh yeah? You'll have to take me unconscious if you want me so bad." Harry took one last puff of the cigarette then put it out with his finger, ignoring the pain it caused.

"I'm sorry then." Remus stated to him. Harry's eyes widened as Remus uttered "Stupefy", but he quickly sidestepped it and made his way toward the other end of the old shack. "Do you want to go out willingly?" 

"How about I don't go out at all?" Harry sneered.

"Not an option." Both refused to have excitement enter their voice. "Stupefy." And this time he couldn't dodge it.

Notes: Well, that was sort of a cliffhanger I guess. Thanks for reading so far. I'm sorry if you don't like the fact that Harry was smoking. It just seems to fit his rebellious new attitude. Yeah this will have a lot of Lupin in it, but Harry won't be going soft any time soon, I assure you. Thank you for the reviews.

Siri Padfoot: Yeah thanks. You like my angry Harry too? I like him with his attitude problem. Hehe.

Gladiator: Thank you!

Muhahahaha: I don't know about that. Harry just doesn't seem like he would go to another magical school, if not Hogwarts.

Da ickle reader: thanks for that. Mostly, the point of the story is that I'm sick of Harry being all pathetic. He should be pissed off! Any normal person would be at the point that he'd been pushed to.

ChennaiChica: Thanks.

Shadowsofpain: Thanks. Well, I've kind of got a pretty good idea of what's coming up.

Demonlover: Yeah, I like bitter!Harry a lot better too. He doesn't seem like the type that would go emo, does he? I don't know what you mean by 'room'. Sorry.

Gaheris: Thank you very much. 

Weirdos: Thank you for the review. More is on its way.

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Lady Arwen of Riverdale: Whoa! Thanks for the long review. I definitely agree with you. I thought of maybe doing one of those 'split personality' things. Like in _Me Myself and Irene_, since Harry just went over the edge after the news of Sirius's death and his destiny to safe the world. It didn't seem to fit though. Maybe in another fic. Sorry. No, I don't have a yahoo group. At least not for this story. It isn't really popular enough for me to start one. If I ever do, I'll let you know.


	4. Respect

                                                                           Bitter

When Harry awoke, he didn't find anyone around him. The room was completely dark except for one lit candle. There weren't any windows and it was extremely cramped. 

He judged by the fact that the room was probably meant as a closet that he was in Lupin's house. The bed was so small that his legs hung off of them and touched the ground. He sat up abruptly and almost hit his head on the ceiling. The 'bedroom' had a cot for a bed and a small table to the side. Even though they were in diagonal corners, they almost touched. He tried the door handle knowing that it would be locked, and wasn't disappointed. He pulled up his legs to get comfortable, since he knew he would be in there a while. He didn't bother making a fool out of himself by pounding on the door, demanding to be let out.

What the hell was Lupin playing at? He expected to lock him up in a closet all summer until he was ready to cooperate? The fuck with that! He was sick of closets, and he was definitely sick of the Wizard world and their screwed up tactics. The hell if Dumbledore thought that the way to get him to collaborate was by locking him up in cupboards with people who didn't give a shit for him. 

He checked his pocket and found he still had his wand, his pack of cigarettes, and his lighter. To hell with dignity! The person who went through his pockets would have a serious problem with some of their limbs; they wouldn't work. 

He lit up a smoke and assumed that the closet would have some ventilation. Otherwise… well, he had his wand.  

In fact… he could just magic the door open. The fact was, he really didn't intend to go back to Hogwarts. Why not get himself expelled? He really didn't feel like dealing with Dumbledore. If he just used magic, nobody would be able to force him to go back, because he wouldn't be allowed. 

He drew his wand, but something – something strange – stopped him from casting a spell. At first, Harry thought it was a ward or something, but then he realized that it was himself. For some reason, he couldn't get himself expelled. His instinct had never proved wrong before. Well, except for last year.

He settled back on the cot; eager just to do the thing he had been doing the rest of the summer. Lay on his bed and brood. In a while, Lupin would probably check on him.  His main priority now was to figure out what the hell he should do next. Lupin probably knew that he was going to be willing to make a break for it at any opportunity, so he was going to have to look for potential ways to get out all the time. 

When his cigarette was too small to smoke anymore, he just turned on his side and tried to fall asleep.   
  


He heard the door open and saw Lupin in the entrance.

"What? Is time out done already?" He said mockingly. "Oh wait, this was supposed to be a room wasn't it?" He almost cringed when he noticed that he sounded a bit like Draco Malfoy admiring the Burrow, but the fact was that it was a pathetic attempt making him feel welcome. Not that he expected he was very welcome. 

"Well, I was going to let you out. Do you think you can behave?" Lupin said in a voice that made him sound like a parent reprimanding a five-year-old, and Harry wouldn't take that. 

"The hell I will, with you talking to me like that. I'm not your fucking toy! If you think that you're doing someone a favor here, you're even more fucked up then I thought. Acting like you're doing me a great service by locking me in your closet." His voice held a confidence that was faked – and skillfully, in his opinion – completely. Yet it all seemed so true that it made him believe his own words. "You think that you owe it to someone to take me in? You're fooling your own damn self." 

"Come out." Lupin told him. 

He didn't move.

"I said come out. You want to talk so much about shit you don't know, so come on! Face me. Tell me what's what." Lupin told him in a dangerous voice. At one time he would have been afraid of such a statement. Not anymore. He smirked like it was an opportunity he had been waiting for, and stood up to face him.

"Do you want to fight me? See who's the real man here?" Lupin asked him, still dangerously. There was no doubt that he would in a heartbeat, but he wasn't done fooling with him yet.

"Oh, but how would Dumbledore feel about that? He would be unpleased to find out that you're trying to beat up his tool. You might wound it! Then it won't be good for anything anymore and it'd just be kicked out of Hogwarts since it's so useless otherwise." The tone of voice he used made Lupin's eyes narrow. 

"I really don't care if you think the world revolves around you, you little punk. Go ahead and think that. You can believe that the world is out to get you, and to make you as miserable as humanly possible. I really don't care. Your happiness is not my priority. My main concern is that you learn some respect, and if beating the crap out of you is the way to do it, then so be it. Come on, oh great Harry Potter! Lets see if all your talk is worth anything."

"Sorry? Couldn't hear you past all the bullshit coming out of your mouth." Harry taunted. They had begun circling each other, like dogs getting ready to attack. "And if your goal in life is to make sure I learn respect then you're going to die pretty damn unhappy."

Lupin raised his fists, and Harry snorted. "What, you aren't going to use your wand? Oh, I'm sure I'd fair out well without magic. It shouldn't stop you anyway. It hasn't before." 

"If I wanted fair odds, I would just stand there and see if you could manage to hit me if I were standing a foot in front of you." 

"No, if you wanted fair odds, you would just transfigure me into a kitten. Oh wait, you probably couldn't manage that, could you?" 

"I know that I can manage to stand in front a dementor without fainting."

If Lupin wanted to go below the belt, he had a lot he wanted to say as well.

"But which one of us can conjure an actual patronus? And I was in, what? Third year?" 

"Oh bravo! You want an order of Merlin? Now here's a real goal for you; try to get through a year in Hogwarts without getting someone killed." He had to admit, that stung. 

"Here's one for you; try and keep a friend for more then a year without them dying. Oh, wait, there's no one left, is there?" 

"No, of course not! You're too busy killing them off-" Lupin cut himself off. His eyes widened at the realization of what he had just said but it was too late. Harry felt a bolt of rage run through him.

His fist meet Lupin's jaw before he even realized what he had done. He didn't regret it. Before Lupin's hand could even shoot up to hold his broken jaw, Harry had already nailed him the stomach. "You want respect? Maybe I'll go to your funeral." He said before he punched him in the ribs. 

Author Notes: Hey. How was that? Bitter enough for you?  I'm beginning to like all this anger! ^~^ I'm sorry it took so long to get it out. I'm working on another fic that should be up on this account soon. Cheers. R&R.

Ckat44: Believe it or not – not is my opinion – but I'm headed in that direction. If Harry and Remus can get beyond hating each other, there is the smallest chance that they might kind of become close, but only if they can make up. 

Clairepotter: Thanks a lot. I'm not sure if Author Alerts will work cause I don't have that service, or whatever. But thank you.

Chi7890: Wow! Thank you very much. Sorry it took so long. How this met your expectations. 

MegOfAllTrades: Thanks a lot. I'm glad that my spelling and grammar are pretty good. I don't like stories with bad spelling; it's usually a sign of a bad plot line. I'm glad you like it. Thank you for reviewing.

Srialb: Thanks a lot.

Alvit-Valkyrie: Thank you very much

Ms: Issues: Thanks a lot. That was a really great review, so thanks. It's so true. And Harry was pretty… docile… so when he snapped, I imagine it had to be a pretty drastic change, right? I tried to take Remus's calm behavior when writing this, but Harry was… a jackass. I think I would have just smacked him, so you can tell he was taking this pretty well. Thanks again for your review.

Helen: I don't think that Harry is going to go back to calm and peaceful Harry for a while… if ever. Thank you for your review.

Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Thanks once again for your great reviews. They're very well critiqued, so thanks. I know that the stunning was a bit clique, but if Harry just kept running then the story would go nowhere, and Harry obviously won't agree to go with Lupin. I'm trying to make my chapters progressively longer. Sorry if I'm doing a poor job of it. Remus obviously isn't going to approve of smoking – especially at fifteen – but at the time, and in Harry's rebellious mood, telling him to stop it is just going to make him enjoy doing it around him. I'm sure in the future, he'll say something. Thank you for the long review. I'd rather a couple of long ones then a lot of little ones. 


	5. disrespect

                                                                           Bitter

Before Harry could continue, something caught a hold of him. He didn't know whether someone had come to the house and put a charm on him or whether he himself had stopped himself from doing it. Of course, when Harry's conscience did decide to pay him a visit from wherever the hell it had been, it was never in the heat of the moment. Right now, he wanted nothing more to continue to beat the crap out of the asshole in front of him. He found the one thing to set him off more then anything else in the world right now was to talk about Sirius; badly or not. To say that he had been the cause of his Godfathers death was to sentence themselves to the same fate.

If only Sirius was here. Sirius could relate to him. In the time he had been sitting alone in his room, he wondered if that was the reason behind his increased anger. He wasn't in denial. He knew he was mad at the whole fucking world. He knew that something was probably wrong with him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Sirius hadn't liked him because he didn't like mischief; because he didn't take risks; because he wasn't his father. Well he would be now. He would be sadistic and torment people who hadn't done anything to him if he had to. If that's what Sirius would have wanted for him then that's how he would act. 

Sirius had been an angry person, hadn't he? When he was accused of blowing up a street of people, no one seemed to have any trouble believing it. Not even one of his best friends. 

Speaking of the bastard…

He felt like someone had preformed a freezing charm on him because he couldn't move. He didn't sense anyone in the room, so he didn't know who could have cast the spell.

Remus gathered himself together in front of him. He cradled his jaw in one hand and bent over his stomach pulling his arm around it with the other. When the pain was bearable, he released him from whatever he had been under. 

There was an awkward silence. Harry was seething mad at him, but really didn't feel like hitting him now. He assumed that Lupin had frozen him with an outburst of magic. Lupin looked at him like he didn't know whether to hit him or apologize. Harry was hoping for Lupin to hit him rather then apologize. It was so much easier to justify yelling at him when Lupin had provoked him. 

With a deep breath, Lupin put a hand on Harry shoulder. Harry crudely shrugged him off. "Don't touch me." 

He could tell that Lupin had gotten what he wanted; Harry to break the silence and talk to him. Though it was amiss. He wasn't going to launch himself into a whole new conversation with Lupin about why he hated the bastard. 

"Will you just calm down? I don't want anything from you, okay? I don't assent you hitting me, but I guess I can't blame you. I'm sorry." He said all of this through his broken jaw, and healed it with a spell after the statement. 

Harry didn't want to say anything. He just wanted to glare at Lupin until he felt so self-conscious that he just let Harry leave, but logic didn't allow him the idea that Lupin was just going to let him leave the house and fuck off somewhere. 

He had to say something. If not just to satisfy his own grudge towards what Lupin had said. "If you ever talk to me that way again, I'll do a lot more then break your jaw." It wasn't a conversational statement, but had he said anything conversational in the past month or so? He knew that Lupin knew that he would hold him to the threat. 

"Whatever. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you wanted anything to eat." Lupin told him.

Harry was at a loss for what to say. For the first time all summer, he didn't know what to say. Finally, his stomach answered him silently. "Whatever." He replied. 

Lupin was poor. There was no doubt about that. Despite his interesting new personality, Harry could never endorse somebody who made fun of people because of how much money they made. Regardless, Lupin was still poor.

The kitchen was more of something you might find in a trailer more then a house. He surveyed the room with limited interest. He had seen enough wizarding houses to be quite use to pots being washed with a flick of a wand. 

He stared at the cracks in the ceiling (and there were quite a few) for a couple of minutes while Lupin fixed them both a grilled cheese. He ate in peace. His stomach full after eating the sandwich and refused when he was offered another. 

Harry stared back looking at Lupin questioningly. Lupin looked at him uncomfortably and Harry knew that he had no idea what to do with him. Harry got a smug satisfaction out of Lupin realizing how poor a guardian he would have made. 

"What do you normally do?" Lupin asked him. 

Oh, the possibilities!

"Well my job as a pimp keeps me pretty busy." Harry kept a straight face, but Lupin's expression almost made him smile. Of course, he couldn't remember when he had last done that. 

"Will you settle for watching TV?" Lupin suggested. 

"You have one?" Harry didn't let his surprise seep into his voice. His defense strategy was to remain as impassive as he possible could for as long as he could. 

"Well there isn't too much to do when you don't have a job." Lupin replied.

Or a best friend, Harry added mentally.  

"What the hell? Nothing better." 

Notes: Well that was chapter 5. I'm impressed with how many reviews I've gotten. I really wasn't expecting that many responses. I had just started this because all of the corny sixth year stories were get on my nerves, but I guess people like it. 

Another one of my stories should be up soon. If you thought that Bitter was controversial then you're going to _love_ this one. 

Harry moves in with Sirius in his fifth year (yeah it's an AU) and everything's is looking up… Then Sirius's drink problem flares up… and Harry is a target of his drunken rage. He doesn't know what to do. Sirius isn't aware of he's doing when he's sober and Harry can't tell Sirius about any of it, knowing how protective he is of Harry. 

So… how does it sound? Unlike this, I actually know exactly what I'm going to do with this fic.  

Ms. Issues: Thanks. : ) I know. Some of the insults exchanged were a bit… harsh. I don't think Harry or Remus necessarily have to back down in order to get along. But I won't say any more. ; ) This chapter kind of gives you a better understanding of some of Harry's motives. I don't know if Sirius would be proud of Harry technically, but can you imagine how Harry would get that idea? Thanks for your review.

Srialb: Thanks for your review. Yeah, Harry was kind of right about that comment. 

Ckat44: Thanks. I can't guarantee you this will be a Harry/Remus fic, but there's a chance.

Lanfear1: Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I get mad while writing this fic. For such an distant character, this fic sure is emotional. Thanks for your review.

Bella Lastrange: Thanks a lot. : )

Meg of All Trades: OOC? I hope I'm not writing him poorly. I'm trying to capture his character with what J.K. has given us to work with. You really can't see how he would act while mad. Thanks for your review. No, Harry didn't get his nose fixed. It had stopped bleeding by then of course. Thanks.

Shadowsofpain: Hehe. Yeah, I guess he is. Thanks for your review.

Chi7890: Thanks a lot for your review. No, Remus really wouldn't know much about the Muggle world, but who's to say just how much he knows? Sirius kind of seems the type to smoke. What do you think? I don't know how calm Remus would be in a situation like that. I'm only writing him the way I think a sensible person would react to the circumstances. Thanks.

Gaheris: Yeah! Thanks for your review.

Moo: Thanks for your review. I'm glad you love my fic.

Kiyoshi3: Thanks! A lot of people like Harry on a rampage. I haven't read to many, but I sure liked writing it. : ) Yeah, I think that Remus shouldn't have been hit. (OH WAIT! I'm the author, aren't I?) But anyway, I don't think it's really in Remus's nature to beat up a 15 year old. Of course, when I write it out, it sounds pretty awful, doesn't it?

Ash: Thanks a lot! That's means a lot to me. 

Snifflesaboutsnuffles: Thank you. : ) OH, and I love your screen name too!

Gypsie: Thank you. 


	6. Ponderings

                                                                           Bitter

It wasn't until later that night that Harry realized one of his faults that day. He had grown attached. During a summer with nothing to do except sulking and loitering in the annoyingly pleasant little suburb, he had made countless resolutions. His first and most important one was not to grow attached to anyone. 

Ron would probably not budge. He knew it was true. Ron was going to be pestering him day after day about Sirius and Harry knew that the more Ron did it, the easier it would be to hate him. 

Hermione was going to try and be an annoyingly motherly figure towards him. Try and get him to talk about what was wrong and she would probably hug him and Harry knew he wouldn't be able to put up with that. Not without breaking someone's face in aggravation. 

And Mrs. Weasley? At some point he would have to confront her. He knew he wouldn't handle that well at all. Mrs. Weasley was like his mother. Of course, it was easy to blame her for Sirius's death. If she hadn't constantly been so horrible to him; making him feel like a prisoner in his own house, maybe he wouldn't have been so eager to leave. And if she hadn't interrupted him, Sirius would have told him the truth about Voldemort's plans. 

It wouldn't be hard to not feel exactly kindly towards Dumbledore. Mainly because of the anger and rage that he knew felt towards the man. 

But Lupin was odd like that. 

He hadn't done anything to him. Nothing at all besides that whole 'abandoning him with the Dursleys' thing. But so had everyone else. Dumbledore was as much to blame for it as anyone was. And plus, Lupin did have an excuse. He was a werewolf. And since Dumbledore was so keen on keeping him as far away from the magical world as possible… Lupin couldn't have.

Damn!

But that didn't mean that he had to like the man… did it?

No! He couldn't get close to him. When he got close to people, they died. It was kind of sad to say it, but he wasn't as worried about them dying as he was about the guilt that he would have to deal with if they did die. 

The previous month – being so nonchalant about everything was so much easier then having to worry about his failing social life. What would it matter if somebody died if he didn't like them? It was hard to want to bother making friends when they would end up dying anyway. 

Whoa. Had he really just thought that? What was wrong with him? 

He was lying on Lupin's sofa, wrapped in a light quilt with the assurance that he had no way of leaving. It seemed that discreetness was not of Lupin's better traits. He had seen him cast a spell on the door. It was an alarming spell, not because it was disturbing, but because it sent a loud blaring over the entire house – if not the entire region of the world – when the door was opened. It wasn't until Lupin left for bed that Harry had decided to take free reign over the house. 

He had explored the upstairs, quietly, as not to wake Lupin, and noted that he had a crappy looking bathroom with one of those old-fashioned tubs that weren't bolted to the wall and had a curtain that went around the entire tub. He had a half-bathroom in the down-stairs with just a toilet and sink, and that was all Harry had used thus far. 

He was reassured that Lupin was not holding out on him and had no other rooms in his entire house for anyone else to sleep in. That was a bit bizarre if Harry had something to say about it, but where was he to talk? How many houses had he even seen in his lifetime? 

He would be sleeping on a couch for the rest of the summer, Lupin had assured him. It was his subtle way of saying, 'you ain't goin nowhere.'

Sickeningly enough, (at least to Harry) he didn't feel horrible about it. At least he didn't have to deal with anyone for a while. Bar Lupin that was. 

The next morning, he awoke to the smell of bacon, and realized that he had gained an appetite back.  

He ate half a package of bacon that was sitting on the counter, before he realized that he was being watched. 

He stared at Lupin for a few moments. "Can I go outside?" since when did he have to ask for that? 

Lupin looked at him in a scrutinizing fashion. "I don't even know where the hell I am, where do you think I'm going to go?" He barked in annoyance. 

"Fine. But getting an attitude with me isn't the way to get stuff."

He stood up. "Fucking…" he muttered

"Do you realize that I have really good hearing?" He asked nonchalantly.

"That's what I was counting on." He replied not looking back. 

Outside, it became very noticeable to him that he had been wearing the same clothes two days in a row. Normally it wasn't such a big deal… but he realized that he didn't actually have any clothes with him. 

After realizing that the area around Lupin's yard was in the middle of nowhere – or a forest to be more specific – and that he really had nothing to do out there, he decided that Lupin was to be alerted to the situation. 

"Get some new ones or something then." Lupin said, not taking his eyes of the paper he was reading. 

 "And how do you propose I go about doing that?" He mocked.

"I don't know. You've got money. You need some new stuff anyway. How about we go out today? Town is only about three miles away. We'll drive in and-"

"Hold up! You have a car? You?" He burst into laughter. 

"Yes. I do." He deadpanned.

Harry wiped away a tear. "I have to see it!" 

"After lunch." 

"Lupin, you're forgetting something." He commented after he made a realization. He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't gotten any of my other shit. My wand, my books, my broom."

"I thought you weren't going back to Hogwarts." 

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" He thought to himself. He had said that hadn't he? "I want my broom, none-the-less."

"I guess we'll have to go back to the Dursleys then." 

A sick smile spread over his face. "Sounds like a plan to me." 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my story! I'm sorry it took so long.

Ckat44: Thanks a lot. I'm glad you like this story. I'm hope that you liked my other story as well. 

Kateydidnt: I hope you get around to finishing the story.

Ms. Issues: Thanks a lot. I hope you liked my other story.

Alexis: No. I'm doing both stories at the same time. I'm glad you like it.

Tnr: Thanks a lot!

Show1022: Thanks for your review. I don't really know how to respond to your fic. You must keep in mind that it isn't just Remus. Harry just wasn't in contact with any other people besides him. Had it been one of the Weasley's the same could be said for his behavior with them. And you right. It might have been Dumbledore had he been in contact with Harry. I don't see him beating the shit out of an old man either, though the circumstances are lot different with Remus. Keep in mind that Harry's made fun of a lot of things he's done himself. Like Sirius tormenting Snape when he did the same to Dudley. But thanks a lot for your constructive criticism.

ShieningStar: Thanks a lot. I had fun writing.

Lanfear1: Harry isn't the anger management kind of guy. Not unless he can help it. Thanks.

Viraten: Why, thank you! May I ask how you know how many stories you sorted through though? It seems a bit much to count yourself.

Pip3: Thanks a lot. I'm glad.

Doctor Zosfmov: Thanks a lot. I find 'horribly sarcastic' Harry to be a relief from 'ranting two-year-old' Harry. Remus tries to hind it, but he does have quite the wolf inside him, I'm sure. *Howls*

Bella Lastrange: Thank you. I'm glad my updating made you happy.

Foxy Bon Bon: Thank you very much.

Chi7890: Calm may be a bit of an exaggeration. More like, not physically violent… yeah. Thanks for reviewing.

Kraeg001: Thanks for your review. And rest assured that I will 'keep going'.

YamiLinkMaster: Thanks a lot. Yeah, I guess you can call it that. God! I'm glad I'm not the only one! Where's Johnny Depp when you need him? I think he'd make a great Sirius. 


	7. Got to be Kidding

Bitter

It took five minutes to for him to calm himself down enough to speak. Even then, his words were accompanied by hysterics and hiccups, and ever few seconds he would burst into another round of fits. 

He had just gotten his first look at Lupin's… ahem, vehicle. 

"You- hahahahaha. You have to- hahahahaha. You've got to be- hehehehehe." He wiped a tear from his eye. "You've got to be kidding me." 

Lupin's face did nothing to disolve the humor in the situation. "It's not funny. This is my car!"

"No, it's not… -hahahahah- It's fucking hysterical! Did- *hiccup* did you steal this- hahahaha- off the set of Scooby doo?" 

He had always hated his laugh. This was no exception. Despite his voice changing recently, and his taking on of a deeper voice, his laughter was the exception. He maintained a squeaky, and embarrassing laugh. In his discovery of the situation, he had decided that laughing was overrated anyway. Not that the previous year had called for much of the behavior.   
  


He made no attempt to stem his conniption, however. 

"You know, I have no problem with you walking." He deadpanned. 

"No no! *hiccup*" He laughed. "I can't wait to ride down Privet Drive in this thing." 

"Should I sit in back with the burnt out joints?" Harry suggested.

"I _don't_ smoke pot." He swore. "Not anymore at least." 

The smile melted off his face at this revelation and an eyebrow raised. "Well that was a mood killer." 

"I think I should drive." Harry said uncertainly.

"Do you have your license?" 

"It's in my trunk." He lied.

"Then be my guest." 

Harry walked around the side of the vehicle strongly willing himself not to break out in a mean smile. He had driven before. His uncle was none the wiser to his trips to the drug store to pick up a pack of cigarettes. Pick up being literally. 

He looked with concern to see that it was an automatic. He had never had any practice in on stick-shift. 

He pulled the lever back and shifted into reverse. The car came to a halt with a screech at he end of the drive way, and he made a hair-pin turn and whizzed down the path. The old car wasn't use to going this fast and ricketed and bounced on the unpathed road.

"First thing I do when I get my Gringotts vault transferred into muggle money is buy a Hummer!" He declared with zeal.

Lupin – who had been holding onto door handle for dear life, looked horror-stricken at the thought. 

He went for almost five minutes going far past the speed limit, and bouncing practically into the branches of adjacent trees before he stopped at the first red-light.

They were practically in the middle of nowhere, and no cars were around.

Lupin looked like half of his hair had turned gray during the trip. He declared with a shaking voice, "Move. Over." 

"Chinese fire drill!" They switched places, and Lupin moseyed off.

"God, you are such a killjoy."

"It's not like I can just buy a new car when you break this one. Hummer, pfff! You should try buying a used car from '89

and see how you drive it. The problem with you is that you don't bother to take responsibility for anything. You have a vault full of money that you think will keep filling itself back up when you finish with it."

"That's supposed to be my problem? I've got much worse problems then that. I've got no anger management, I'm a mean bastard with no respect towards anyone, I'm practically a klepto, and I start trouble just for the fun of it."

"Well they say that acceptance is the first step to recovery." He muttered

"Hell no. I like fucking with all you people."

"You really need to watch your mouth." 

"What do you want me to do? Pull my eyes out and turn them around?"

"Do you have any respect for your elders?"

"Did you think about what you said before you said it?"

"No, obviously not."  
  


"Obviously." 

There was more silence.

"I really think that you should quit smoking. You're at a critical age." They had arrived at a familiar road close to Privet Drive.

"I think you should mind your own business. Go puff the magic dragon or something." 

"That was a joke! Do I really look like I smoke weed?" 

"Do you really want me to answer that?" 

"When we get to the house, you're going to go in, get your stuff, and leave. There will be no dawdling, no picking fights, and if I have to fix any broken bones, there's going to be hell to pay." 

"Oh, trust me, there's going to be hell to pay anyway." He smirked opening the door to walk out. He recognized the alarmed face between the blinds that belonged to his aunt. His smirk only got larger.

Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! Sorry for the cliffy. I know you wait a long time for this chapter, so sorry it's so short.

Pip3: You'll get to find out next chapter.

Lizzy: Amen ten-fold! Oh, God, I can't stand those! I hate ships. I sure as hell don't want to read mush. The point of this story _is_ that Harry is out of character. He sort of snapped. I hope you don't mind. I'm glad it's reassuring. I realize that by the end of the book he was sort of getting over the whole thing, but being around the Dursley's sort of pissed him off, and with the remaining grief he had looming over his head, he just freaked. And thank you for complementing my spelling. I mean, a lot of people I know with good stories can't spell, but you know if the grammar sucks, the story probably will too.

Ckat44: Thanks a lot. I'm not sure how I would go about making any pairings in this, let alone, slash – which I'm not a fan of. I mean, Harry doesn't get along with anyone, and the only characters are Harry and Remus. Thanks for the complement though. 

Destined Enchantress: Thanks a lot. I laughed a lot while writing this. I was waiting for someone to comment on Harry's choice of music. Listen to Eminem, or Tupac when you get angry, and it's makes you want to kill someone! Did you hear about that man who shot two policemen after listening to Tupac Shakur? Not that I don't have respect for rock music. Thanks for your review.

Nemati: Thanks a lot!

Heyyouwiththeface: Just to tell you, I love your name. Thanks for your comment.

ShieningStar: Thanks for your patience. It's appreciated. And for reviewing, as well.

Jeangab057: I'll take that as a complement.

Moo: Hey! Thanks for your review. I'm glad I'm one of your favorites. Next chapter, I promise! (What Harry does to the Dursley's) and I have no idea when Harry and Lupin will confront that issue, but it will probably take a whole chapter. I'm not sure that I would want Harry in the same room with Dumbledore for a while. I mean, beating up a 150-year-old man wouldn't look very good in the papers, now would it? Lol. Thank you.

Jemma Blackwell: I guess that's my fault. I didn't write about Lupin fixing his nose. He did, I just didn't mention it, sorry. Yeah, I know it's harder. But it's nice to blow off some steam. That's what writing this story is like. Could you, um, tell me what part of the story I wrote that whole analogy thing in? *laughs* I'm sorry, I really don't remember. I've been busy though. But thanks for complementing it. Yeah, I'm writing more of this.

Chi7890: Oh, the Dursley's noticed. Thanks for the idea, actually. I've got a great scenario in my head now. 

Ms. Issues: Well, without further ado… wait, I just posted it, didn't I? You'll have to wait until next time for my next one. I don't mind you persistence, it makes it easier just to copy paste 'thanks for the compliment' over and over again. No, I'm just kidding. I don't do that. But you're right, people do have pretty much the same reviews. Can't say that I mind, though. Sorry to disappoint you with the car. It's actually like that where I live. Everyone has kickass cars, and cell phones, and digital cable because they don't have to pay much for their mortgage. Hehe. Lupin doesn't have a job though, so oh well.

Lanfear: Yup, he has something up his sleeve. Thanks for the review.

Viraten: I think that it's due to a good summary. You have to draw people in. Thanks.

Someone: Thank you, and thank you again!

ShardWing: Thanks for your reviews. Yes, it will be fun, Harry living with Remus. *Takes on announcer voice* Two complete opposites. A small, piece of crap house. One bathroom. One bedroom. See what happens, on the next, 'Bitter'.

Thank you all! I loved your reviews. It made me feel so special that I couldn't get into an angry enough mood to write for a couple of days. (But don't start flaming me to write faster!) Love you all!


	8. Good Deed of the Year

Bitter

There had probably been a time when he was afraid of his Aunt and Uncle. A time when the threat of being locked in a closet for a month would scare him enough to stay out of trouble. A whack to the ribs with a promise of more would instantly make him behave. 

Now, he didn't live with the Dursley's. Now, he wouldn't have to live with the consequences of beating them to a bloody pulp, besides a disapproving look from Lupin, who he really had no mind of anyway.

The one thing that stood in his way from his ultimate dream of was the empty driveway in front of the Dursley residence.

Vernon wasn't even there. The only person in the house was his aunt. His own flesh and blood. But most of all, his mother's sister. He knew he couldn't hit a girl. He had at least that much self restraint, anyway.

"God damn it!" He moaned as he walked into the house.

"Watch your language." Lupin said in a half-hearted attempt. Harry didn't know why he still tried. What was the point anymore? 

"Just get your crap, and let's go." Harry stomped up the stairs, pist off. He had just been denied a treat. 

He turned a corner and heard a squeal akin to a pig.

Pig? Dudley. 

He turned with a malicious grin. His fat ass cousin was standing directly infront of him. None of his friends around, no uncle who could lock him up for the rest of the summer – not that he would have let him anyway. Just his cousin. 

His smile must have scared him, because Dudley began backing up into the wall. "Hello Dudley." His sadistic grin widened.

This was his chance. His chance to get his cousin back for all of the shit he had put him through for eleven years. Stealing the few things he had, telling on him for things he didn't do, beating the shit out of him, and forcing an entire school to hate him. Now was his chance.

His cousin backed up into the corner, trying to make himself as small as possible, as if he wouldn't be seen. 

Suddenly, he wasn't the bully he had grown up knowing… just a really fat kid who was being cornered.

He tried to ignore the fact that he had a really unfair advantage. Despite his cousin's weight advantage, he knew he could probably beat him senseless anyway. He had fifteen years of rage on his side. His cousin probably wouldn't be able to hold his own for three seconds. 

"Aw, fuck it. This will be my good deed of the year." He said, more to himself. His cousin sighed in relief. "I can't beat up a pouf anyway." 

He packed up his trunk, looking through the crazy shit he had previously worn. Plaid? What the hell? He had to do some shopping.

"Come on." He barked at Lupin, who was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. "We're going shopping." 

Lupin got into the driver's seat. "So where is your license?" He asked with a sarcastic look. Too bad. It would have been nice to make fun of him for believing he actually had it. He ignored him.

"Turn left, here. There is a new mall. I want to get some shit." 

"What do you want to get?" They pulled into a parking spot and Harry was suddenly overcome with an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. Embarrassment. He wasn't really sure why though. It wasn't like he had any claim on Lupin. He wasn't his parent, so it shouldn't have been his embarrassment, it should have been Lupin's… right?

"New clothes." 

"You have any muggle money?"

"No, Lupin, I don't. I plan on using my five finger discount." He rolled his eyes.

"Why is it that I wouldn't put it past you? I shop here, Harry. They have good deals on clothes." 

"That explains things, then, does it?" He said smirked. "I shop in footlocker." 

"You need new shoes? They look fine to me." He said, referring towards his unnamable branded shoes.

"Yeah, expect they're too small, they have a hole, and they came from the Salvation Army. I want to get some Tims."

He picked out a couple of Nike shirts, some beaters, and stocking caps. He bought the most expensive pair of Timberlands in the store.   

"You're going to look like a thug." Lupin replied in his faded jeans, and a sweater that looked like it had come off the irregular rack. 

"Then I guess I'm ready to ring these things up." 

Notes: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Bitter. I'm really a bit overwhelmed with all of the stories I'm doing now. Loss (which is a story on my other account, as BlackPotterGrl) is taking up a lot of time, and The Price of Love is a bit of a hassle to write at this point. I'm actually working on another fic that I'm not sure I'm going to publish. 

So, sorry if this fic has been pretty much put on the back burner and is starting to congeal. I'm still working on it, and I know where this is going.

Destined Enchantress: I have respect for that. Some people like rock, some people like rap… still, I would figure that Harry would be into rap… maybe I'll have him explore rock though. Thanks a lot for reviewing.

Ms. Issues: Well, not so much the mystery machine, just that basic structure. Like one of those burnt orange vans that hippies are always smoking pot in movies about the seventies. Sorry for the disappointment, but the point of this is that Harry's suppose to start getting a little bit better… slowly. Very slowly.

Slimpun: Well, Harry knows that, and everything. He's just being a typical teenager and making threats that he has no intention of going through with. 

Sword Wielder-Firebreath: Well, that's a possibility. Unless Harry's fixed in time for Hogwarts, though…

Someone: Well, at some point, I'll probably throw them into the plot. I happen to hate ships… at least ones that involve Harry. Especially original characters, but you probably don't care about that. 

FroBoy: Thank you lots. : )

Grawp: Thanks. Not many people approve of that, actually. Remus is going to try and wedge himself in there and give Harry some structure, though I hardly see him doing that when he's trying to be his friend.

Jemma Blackwell: Yeah, thanks, I got that. I'm glad you liked it so much. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Lupin just seems like he would be the kind of person who could take all of the blows Harry throws out at him. Well, all of it started around the start – maybe a week of letting himself stew in his anger – into the summer.

Shardwing: I was laughing really hard when I first read your review, and of course, I was in class when it happened, so everyone was staring at me. Yes, I know, Harry is clueless. Now that has me thinking maybe Harry should get that hummer. Hmm.

Relle: *bows down to the queen* Oh mighty god of fanfiction. Why do you pick me – a mere peasant – to complement? Nah, I'm just playing (though I hope you find that more flattering then annoying) Thanks for your review though. 

Coconut-ice agent h/h: OH MY GOD! Your review was hilarious! I loved it so much, I think I read it five times! But smoking isn't just an American thing. Yeah, it is kind of hard to believe that, though they did get along pretty good when he was a professor. I wouldn't know, but… maybe I'll do a one shot exploring the possibilities. Probably not though. Too many stories as it is. Dance? *laughs* 

*Laughs harder at the idea of Remus in a fig leaf* Oh my God! I can't wait for your review of this chapter.  Oh definitely not! She probably would have just made him poor so that he can dance in strip clubs. Now there is a movie I would pay to see! I agree with the bedroom thing though. I see your point on the matter of the begging of book five.

So thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and for all of you who will review this one. Flamers will be left in room with Harry. 


	9. A Bunny no less?

Bitter

Walking into the kitchen the next day, Harry almost melted into a puddle on the floor with embarrassment. He realized his mistake instantly. After getting changed the previous night, he had left his trunk open. Open to a particularly embarrassing item.

"Gee, Harry. This is very interesting." The broad smile spreading across Lupin's face was sickening, and that made it all the worse.

He snatched it off of the table where it had lay. "What are you doing going in my trunk?" He barked angrily, making it obvious he was trying to cover up his mortification.

"It was just laying on the top. I wanted to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me."

"And, why, pray tell, did you take it out?"

"Jeez, Harry, don't get so edgy."

"I'll get as edgy as I damn well please! You stay out of my shit!"

"It's my house."

"You're holding me here like a fucking criminal. Do you think I knocked on the door and asked you to live here?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Gee, I wouldn't think that such bad language would come from someone who still had a stuffed animal."

He wouldn't let himself blush, but it was a losing battle. "So what? I have a stuffed animal. It's my own fucking business."

"A bunny no less?"

He looked down at the rabbit still clutched in his hand. It was worn, and had a very poorly sewn patch on its stomach, and most noticeably, it had a scorch mark on one of the ears.

"I haven't touched my trunk in a while. I haven't thrown it out yet."

"You don't have to throw it out, Harry. You've had that thing since you were a baby."

"How do you know that?" He asked suspiciously. How much had he been spied on over the years?

"I remember when Sirius gave it to you."

Harry looked down again at the toy in his hand. Sirius had given this to him? He couldn't even remember when or where he had gotten this. He was pretty sure he had found it in a trunk in the Dursley's attic, but that could have been a dream. He used to be able to play up there until he accidentally found something he wasn't supposed to, and carried it around the house in front of his aunt. He could still remember how red her face had gotten when she saw it.

That was the first time he could remember being struck, and locked in his cupboard for more then two days. He had only been five-years-old.

"Your mum had your toy chest charmed to be indestructible. Still, you can see what happened to it."

He looked down again to the scorch on its ear. He didn't allow himself to get nostalgic over it. Not that he was ever nostalgic. It wasn't like there was much to remember that was good… or even non-traumatic.

"What ever. I don't care." He had quite a hard time letting it go though. Finally, he dumped it in the trash bin. He turned and saw the sad look on Lupin's face.

"Harry, you didn't have to do that… really. I'm sorry for bugging you about it." He pulled it out of trash, but by now it all ready had a banana peel stuck to it, and it would probably smell.

"I said, I don't want it." He said stoically, then he turned to get out of the kitchen.

"Harry." Lupin called, clearly regretful.

He sat down on the couch, and turned on the television.

He couldn't deny to himself that he had never actually planed on throwing away his stuffed rabbit. Maybe burying him at the bottom of his trunk, but it had been his first – and hell! only – toy growing up.

And Sirius had given it to him. He couldn't get that thought out of his head. He might have been cold and mean, and just an all-around little bastard, but he still missed his godfather terribly. He was pretty much the reason he was acting this way.

He wouldn't allow himself to miss it though. That went against his plan. Remember? If you remain nonchalant, you won't get hurt! But he was hurt…

He ate dinner that night without looking at Lupin.

Afterwards, over a cup of coffee, the only discussion they had was over what to watch.

"Come on, Harry, I want to watch the news."

"Why do you want to hear about that muggle shit? I really don't care if some idiot is out there raping people."

"I've watched the news every night since I taught at Hogwarts."

"Only because you have, like, five channels."

"So, you don't have anything better to watch anyways."

"Well, look at that, the news is already over. Now how about you get out of my bedroom."

With a sigh, Lupin retreated. He shook his head as he walked, muttering a contemplation of why he even bothered to try to help him. He was followed by a "You know, talking to yourself is the first signs insanity."

"I knew living with you would have its side effects." Came from the staircase.

He dug through his trunk to get out a fresh tee-shirt and boxers to sleep in and found his rabbit, clean, sewed so that you didn't notice it had ever had a hole in it, and without a scorch mark on it. It was his own rabbit, none the less. He put it back, not bothering to throw it out this time. Then he noticed the post it on the tail.

'it belonged to Sirius when he was a child.'

Notes: Yeah, I know. Corny chapter. I'm sorry. Angst is drying up, and we're moving towards a solution, so, I'm sorry if you're getting bored.

I've decided to start a livejournal, so that I'm not misleading you into believing it's a nice long chapter, and then seeing that there are half a dozen notes at the bottom. You'll find the link to it in my bio, and there I'll be answering reviews. I guess this means everyone is going to have to go get a look at it. If you're going to review me, do it with the blue button on the bottom of the screen, and not pressing the comments button on the bottom of my entry. That's only if you have a comment towards my comment. Sorry if that didn't make sense.


	10. Manipulation

Bitter

There was that all to common awkward silence when he sat down to breakfast the next day. Even though he knew Lupin wasn't going to say anything about the rabbit that day. Harry resolved not to throw it away after all, though the fact that it belonged to Sirius being the primary, and pretty much only reason.

If Sirius still kept his stuffed animal up until his twenties, Harry could too.

That seemed to be the basis for solving most dilemmas. What would Sirius do?

"Would you like to do something today?"

"Hmm?" Harry was so unused to the concept of doing just about anything in Lupin's house.

"I don't know. We could see a movie. All you ever do around here is ride your broom and watch TV. What do you want to do?"

"Could we…" It was such a stupid idea, he didn't even bother asking.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"No, really. What do you want to do?"

"You aren't going to let me, so why bother asking?"

"You're right. I'm probably not."

There was a thick silence in which Harry examined his fork and counted the seconds.

"What is it?"

"Wow! Only five seconds. I was expecting at least ten."

"At least tell me what it is."

"No, I'm not wasting my breath."

"What if I promise to give it proper consideration?"

"It doesn't matter how much consideration you give it. You're going to say no."

Another silence. This one lasting only three seconds on Harry's watch.

"All right. What ever it is, you can do it."

"And you give me your word that you are going to let me do whatever it is that I ask you to?"

A silence that lasted another five seconds. "Yes."

"I want to get a tattoo."

"DAMN!"

If Lupin were driving any slower, one of the many cars behind him would get so pissed off they would drive into the back of his car's fat ass.

"I can not believe that I agreed to this."

"I can not believe that I managed to get you to agree to this." Harry took another puff on his cigarette calmly, though anyone could tell that he was gloating on the inside. "You know, curiosity killed the werewolf."

"I must admit, that was good."

"You're just gullible."

"After all my years with Sirius, I still manage to fall for that."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked genuinely interested.

"Sirius and your father used to do that to me _all_ the time. I was the only one who ever refused to do something for him when he acted charming. Well, me and Lily."

Harry couldn't help but smirk with contentment, but at the sight of Lupin looking at him, he turned towards the side-view mirror and pretended he was amused by the pile-up. Not that Lupin would buy that, but at least he was trying.

"If you drive any slower, I'm going to take the wheel."

"The wheel won't make me drive faster, unfortunately."

He placed his foot on top of Lupin's and pressed down with all of his strength.

"Get off!" He yelled as the car zoomed forward. He could practically hear the cries of joy from the cars in back of him, or at least the lack of horns being honked.

"You going to drive faster?"

"Yes! Just get off!"

There was more silence.

"Your mom would shoot me if she knew what I was letting you do."

"Hopefully with a silver bullet." He saw Lupin cringe.

"Please don't mention silver." He asked through his teeth.

"Oh, come on. You know, every cloud has a silver lining."

Lupin turned with a glare. "Shut it! And do you have the money to pay for this? And what do you want to get?" He said, trying to change the subject.

"Well, yes. I can't rely on you. You were hardly born with a silver spo-"

"One more time, Harry! You need my permission to get this done you know."

"You really aren't going to like what I'm getting done then."

"What?" Lupin said, like he really didn't want to know. He probably didn't.

"I want a silver dagger on my shoulder."

"Do you think you could get anymore stereotypical?"

"No, but I could probably be an even bigger son of a bitch! Care to test me?"

"Take it easy!"

"Well, I haven't been much of an ass hole lately, so I think I'm due. Take a left here."

"How do you know where this place is?"

"I've been hanging out a lot of places this summer, and I've wanted this tattoo for a while."

"Are you sure you want this? A dagger, Harry? That's just creepy."

"Just because you have a problem with silver doesn't mean that it should ruin it for me."

"Yeah but- "

"If I don't like it, I'll just remove it with a spell or something."

"Hurts like hell."

"How would you know?

"I've had one done."

Harry couldn't stop the shock from showing on his face. Lupin smiled a bit.

"We all got one… us Marauders. Peter was a total wimp and took one look at the needle and freaked out, but we all had one done. Sort of ironic, actually."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it was the only true marauders that got them done. It should have been a sign that he wasn't loyal, but we were all pretty drunk, and we didn't pay much attention to him."

"You still have it?"

"Off course I do. I wanted to get it removed after I thought that Sirius had betrayed us all, but I decided to keep it."

"What is it?"

"Just our names."

"All of your names, or just yours in particular?"

"We were going to do all of them, but we didn't realize how much it would hurt. Poor Padfoot. His name was the longest of any of us. It's kind of funny. We realized once that I have five letters, Prongs has six, Padfoot has seven, and Wormtail has eight."

"You had way too much time on your hands." He deadpanned.

"This must be it… You sure you want to do this?"

"Why would we have driven forty-five minutes if I wasn't?"

"If you're sure then."

They entered the run down, dark and gloomy place. He heard Lupin mutter from behind him "They probably don't even sterilize their needles."

"Sure do." Said a low voice in the corner. "Nice seeing you again, Harry."

"Pat." He nodded.

"Who's the guy with the stick up his arse?"

"The guy I conned into letting me get a tattoo."

"How much did you pay this one?"

"He's a friend of my father's."

"Ah..."

"Would you mind not talking to me as if I'm not in the room?" said Lupin, looking more then a bit disturbed at their display.

"You just sign here, and we'll get Harry set."


	11. plans

Bitter

He sat back in the car, breathing through his nose shakily. Lupin looked at him through the corner of his eye as he drove along.

"It doesn't look bad, Harry. Was it not what you were expecting?"

"Watch the fucking road."

"I think it looks fine."

"_Shut it_."

"If you don't like, you can always glamour it when you get back to Hogwarts."

"Will you shut the fuck up? The tattoo is fine! Jesus."

"Then what the hell is your problem? You got the bloody tattoo, what more do you want?"

"Pull over." His voice was quiet.

"Harry, where am I supposed to…"

"Pull over!"

Lupin wedged his fat little car into a tiny spot that he shouldn't have fitted into if not for magic or something like that.

"What is this about, Harry?"

He turned, and opened his mouth, but his courage failed him. Mouthing off, and bitching to people was one thing… talking about the stuff he was going to bring up was kind of disheartening.

"Come on, Harry. Just tell me."

"Never mind." He muttered.

"It's all right. You can talk to me. I'm not going to get upset."

"Do you… think he would have liked it?"

"Who-"

"Who do you think?" he fought hard to keep his voice from sounding harsh, because he wanted a real answer.

"Of course he would have. He told me he wanted to take you out for your- damn, your sixteenth, that's in two days isn't it?"

"What did he want?" he said, ignoring the question.

"He had wanted to take you out for your birthday to get you a tattoo, as a dog of course. He had been trying to arrange it for a while… I wasn't going to say anything though."

"Why the fuck not?" he asked angrily.

"Well, I didn't want you to feel like you should get it just to honor his memory or something stupid like that."

"You should have told me before! I would have gotten something different. A cross or something."

"Harry, I think your body might reject a cross."

"Fuck you."

"I guess this wouldn't be a good time to ask you what you would like for your birthday…"

"I guess asking you to die in a fiery explosion of some kind would just be setting myself up for disappointment."

"We could light some fireworks…"

Harry snorted.

"You think we can start driving again?"

He nodded, feeling a bit sheepish about making Lupin pull over so he could ask his corny little question.

"Shit, I forgot." He said, pulling out.

"What?" he growled

"The full moon. It falls on your birthday. I'm really sor-"

"Calm down, I'm not even celebrating it, whether you're fucking yourself up or not."

"It's your sixteenth, though. I would think that the fact that I won't be there would be reason enough to celebrate."

"You just don't get it do you?"

"What's not to get?"

"You think I have a personal problem with you? I hate everyone, it isn't just you. Hell, compared to everyone else, I almost like you."

"What about your friends?"

"Who, Ronny? Hermione?" his voice held a tone of mocking.

"They're your best friends. What's the problem with them?"

"Think they're going to like me now? Now that I'm acting like this?"

"They know you've been going through a lot, they'll probably understand."

"What, you think this is a stage? I'm just angry at the world for a little while? It'll pass, I'm sure." He said sarcastically.

"You think you're going to be forty years old and still cussing everyone off?"

"I think someone is going to shoot me before that."

"Well, that's a given."

"Kill or be killed? Hmm, I wonder… the most evil dark lord in all the world, and I'm, what, sixteen now, and angry at everyone, and thing, so… maybe I'll leave you my money and you can buy a Hummer in my honor."

Lupin looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Damn, are you going to kill me for the insurance money now?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I'm an angry, rebellious mother fucker, not a suicidal little bitch."

"Oh, there's a difference now?"

He pulled off his black sweatshirt covering his tattoo to reveal his chest. "Do you see cuts anywhere?"

"Yeah. All over your shoulders, and… ouch, that one on your chest looks pretty deep. Where did you get these?"

"Fights. My cousin thought he was real tough. He should have seen what I did to that little shit down the block."

"Did they provoke you?"

"I'm vicious, but I'm not sadistic."

"I'm going to take that as a yes. Yeah. Sirius use to get into tons of fights when he was your age, but he didn't pick any of them. God, how many times did I have to pull him back to stop him from killing one Slytherin or another. It was sort of a joke, how he turned out, among the Slytherins, especially when his brother arrived there."

To Harry, it sort of sounded like how he had been towards Ron up until now. Boy, how things had changed…

"I can see why he would be pretty angry."

"He didn't act like you do though. He valued friendship a lot more then that."

"I value friendship!" he said, suddenly on the defensive. "I'm just saying, they aren't going to like my attitude, and I'm not to going to start acting a fucking pussy just so that they like me."

"You ever think maybe your friends changed a bit over the summer too?"

"I guess I'll find out, huh?"

"I was around Ron for a lot of the time, at the order… he really isn't the same person anymore."

"Like… what do you mean?" he asked, just a tiny bit of concern seeping into his voice.

"He's snapping at everyone, like you are. He isn't cursing quite as much, but he's got a lot of anger. Hermione is just… she's really quite most of time, and she doesn't read much at all. Every time Ron starts with someone, she never says anything like she normally does."

"That's kind of strange…"

"You sure you don't want to celebrate your birthday?"

"Lupin, do I look like the kind of person who's going to celebrate their sixteenth birthday with a cake and birthday hats?"

"Maybe without the candles, you probably being some sort of pyro, but that wasn't how I celebrated mine…"

"Thank god you weren't a total reject at my age… what did you do, anyway?"

"Actually, to tell the truth, I think I got stoned as hell, and drunk to boot. That was, before your father, and godfather showed up, then they dragged me out somewhere and the rest is all a blur. I think they told me later that they took me out to a muggle nightclub, but I ended up getting so sick they had to take me home."

"You don't seem like the kind of person who can stomach alcohol that well." He told him. "Actually, for my birthday, I was thinking about going to a strip club, and getting drunk as fuck."

Lupin snorted. "Now that sounds like Sirius's sixteenth birthday." He smirked, as they pulled into the driveway. Surprisingly, Harry did as well.

"You might want to put some Vaseline to stop the itch, you know?"

"It isn't bothering me." He lied.

"Yeah, but it'll prevent crusting, and that's never good…"

"I thought that Vaseline made it fade though?"

"Common misconception, that. Just keep it clean, and try to keep it out of the sunlight." He told him. Harry mentally remembered to start wearing tee shirts outside.

"So, erm, you sure you're just going to stay home tomorrow?"

"You trust me in the house alone?"

"I figure I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I can't say I'm not surprised."

"Why, should I reconsider? Am I going to come home to a trashed house, a you passed out drunk on the floor?"

"Of course not! How could you accuse me of such things?" He asked, blatantly sarcastic.

"Just the same I'll be locking the door to your room." Said Lupin, smiling; his eyes narrowed.

Notes: I wish I had time to respond to the reviews, but I really have something I'm doing tonight, and I didn't want you guys to wait any longer. PoL should be up soon as well. If you can't wait, read the teaser found in my LJ.  


	12. Severing Ties

Bitter

"Happy birthday." Lupin said unenthusiastically, though he seemed to be making an attempt at being cheerful. The full moon probably had him feeling off.

"Imagine that. 16 years, about 7 assassination attempts, and I'm still here." He said yawning.

"You would think that birthdays would be a bit more monumental for you then."

"Yeah, well after my ninth coat hanger, it got to be too depressing to keep hoping for a nice birthday, so I've just stopped recognizing the day.

"When do you usually get your presents, anyway?"

"I don't care." He said, nonchalantly. But it was a bit strange that they hadn't come at their regular time of 12:00 O'clock midnight.

"Do you want mine now?"

His stomach unexplainably dropped a bit. Lupin had gotten him something?

"I didn't want anything. I told you that!" he commanded firmly.

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't. I don't think you'll mind it though."

"I really don't want anything." His voice was a bit less offensive, but it still held resolve.

"At least open it. If you don't want it, I wont force you to keep it."

It was wrapped in plain blue paper, and it was a very inconspicuous shape; it looked like a box that held clothes.

He looked over at Lupin for a second with suspicious eyes. He guessed that it wasn't clothes, since Remus had absolutely no idea what clothes sense was, and knew nothing he picked out for him would be appreciated.

He ripped the paper off the top of it and was met with a white box. He pulled the lid off and stared at it blankly. He looked up at Lupin, who looked sheepish and shrugged. "Try it on."

He looked at it in the box. Lupin stood up, and walked over to stand next to him. He followed suit, almost meeting his eyes height wise. He pushed the box away and it fell to the floor. Lupin tried to stop him from moving from the room, but he pushed past him and walked out the back door.

"Harry! Come back."

Pausing at the woods he looked back to see if he was being followed, but he wasn't. It was way to close to the moon's rising for him to go running out chasing after him.

He breathed in and out deeply for a few minutes, making sure he was completely hidden from sight in the trees, then he sunk down the tree and sat in between the roots, crossing his legs with his elbows on his knees, then he dug his hands far into his now longish hair.

He tried to contain himself, realizing how completely pathetic he was being. It was just a gift. A stupid gift. It just happened to be something that Sirius was fond of wearing, didn't mean a thing. He shouldn't have reacted that way. Lupin would think that he was weak and couldn't handle himself. He just couldn't go back in there though. Not after that display.

No, it was his birthday. Might as well make the most of it.

"Wake the hell up you prat!"

"Ron?" he muttered.

"Who else do you know who says prat?"

He laughed, then reached out his arm, and felt a hand grab it and pull him up. "Just don't talk so bloody loud." He said.

"Bloody hell there is a lot of bottles here."

"Yeah, well, I'm growing a bit too tolerant, I guess."

"You don't want Lupin to hear you up. He's fucking pissed."

It was the first time he had ever heard Ron curse so flavorfully.

He smirked, then he sat up. "Got to deal with it sometime."

He walked into the kitchen and noticed that Lupin was sitting across from Mrs. Weasley, looking like he had just got over a bout of pneumonia.

Lupin turned towards him and closed his eyes, looking like he was counting to ten.

Mrs. Weasley, however, turned towards him and openly glared at him.

"What in Gods name where you thinking!?" she started getting to her feet. With his growth over the last two summers he towered over her. He hid a cringe, as her high-pitched voice rung in his ears.

"I dunno." He said tiredly. He wasn't too pleased with Mrs. Weasley right now, and he didn't want to get into it with her.

"Do you know how stupid you acted?" she asked him, her voice loud and furious.

"No, but I have an idea that you'll tell me anyway." He said sarcastically.

"Don't talk to my mother like that mate." Ron said from behind him sounding territorial.

"If I were your mother…"

"You aren't." he said quickly and quietly.

She looked taken aback for a moment. "Be that as it may-"

"No! You aren't my mother. And Lupin isn't my father, and neither is Mr. Weasley! You all think you have some sort of claim over me? Well you don't!" he said firmly, his voice rising as he gained momentum. He was still a bit woozily from his hangover, but he ignored it.

"And thank god! What you've turned into, I would be ashamed to call you my son."

"Yeah, well, now I'm no one's fucking son, am I?" he hollered back.

Ron turned him around and looked down at him, still half a head taller then him. "You raise your voice again I'll tear out your fucking voice box." He threatened.

"Back the hell off me, goddamn it."

He turned back towards Mrs. Weasley.

"You have seven fucking children! Leave me the hell alone!"

Before he could he duck, he was slapped firmly across the face. He blamed his reflexes on his hangover.

His face steadily turned red until it matched the hand imprint on his left cheek. Mrs. Weasley looked at him with fury. Even as though she might do it again. Lupin looked shocked.

He spoke calmly, clearly, and tensely. "You stay the fuck away from me. All of you. I don't want to speak to you, I don't want to see you, I don't even want to acknowledge you. Just stay the _fuck_ out of my way."

And with that, and the slam of the back door, he severed all relations with the Weasley family… and the person he used to be.

AN: Okay, so it's been a while. Kay, maybe a bit longer then a while. I did give you an exceptionally long chapter of PoL though, so don't go at me about that. No, I haven't dropped off the planet. I'm working steadily on it. It's just a very tense scene that I'm on right now, and I've erased about four hundred words of it because it was turning out shitty and redundant. Sorry. A teaser should be up soon though.


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